Overtime
by ICanStopAnytime
Summary: This fanfiction takes Friday Night Lights into overtime, journeying beyond Season 5 as Eric and Tami Taylor, as well as Matt and Julie, undergo major changes in their lives. Cameos by Tim Riggins, Tyra, and Landry. Complete.
1. Chapter 1: The Phone Call

* Please take a look at my novels on Amazon (available in both paperback and Kindle editions). I write under the penname of MOLLY TAGGART. Current titles include OFF TARGET and ROOTS THAT CLUTCH. *

Chapter 1: The Phone Call

Tami put her plate and Gracie's in the sink and Eric's in the refrigerator. One of the advantages of Philadelphia was that Eric rarely missed dinner. Practices were typically early in the morning or afternoon instead of into the evening, and, except on game nights, he was usually home in time to make her dinner. It had been an interesting reversal in roles, forcing Eric to go beyond his usual catalog of chili, pancakes, and burgers. Tami had been surprised with how little protest he had risen to the task, and was even a little miffed that he seemed to cook as well as she did, once he got into it.

Tonight was an exception, however. Coach Taylor had called a late practice in preparation for the Pioneer's upcoming game, and he would likely hit rush hour traffic on the way back. It wasn't as if he had never lived in a city before, but he managed to complain about the traffic anyway. He claimed Austin traffic was easier because the drivers were more courteous. She agreed with him, but she wouldn't admit it. She wanted him to be happy here in Philadelphia.

Tami had been bowled over by the way he had rushed to her in that mall in Dillon, giving her that early Christmas present, not saying "I'll give in," or "you're making me feel guilty," or "if I have to do it to appease you," but instead "I _want_" – "I _want_," and "take me with you." She knew compromise was never easy, that when she had been the one on the giving end, a little resentment had lingered. She had hoped it would somehow be different this time, but Eric's gripes were starting to get to her. He hadn't acclimated to Philadelphia yet. He rarely had a good word to say about their new environment and often made negative comparisons.

Tami was always pointing out the good things, but if she were honest with herself…she's had some difficulty adjusting too. The worst was when the college's President had intimated to her that maybe she wasn't dressing professionally enough, that she needed to be more modest in her choice of blouses. He had been polite and subtle enough with the suggestion; that wasn't the problem. It was the secretary who had muttered beneath her breath – maybe Tami was just imagining it, but she didn't think so – "Texas trash."

She had been in near tears the evening she told Eric about it, which she hadn't wanted to do – hadn't wanted to give him one more reason not to love Phili. But she hadn't been able to keep the fact that she was upset from him. "You're just too sexy for the East Coast, babe," he had said. "People are intimidated by you, that's all. And that woman's just jealous." His words weren't as comforting as his indignation, as he stomped angrily about the kitchen slamming cupboards, clearly angry anyone would dare to insult his wife, and probably wishing it had been a man instead of a woman, so that he could defend her honor. While she was angry and offended at the crassness and prejudice of the secretary, she wasn't actually upset about changing her style a little; she had begun to feel that, given the academic climate and the professionalism of her job, maybe a little more modesty was in order after all. She didn't mind adapting to that expectation so much as she minded the fact that she hadn't been left to come to the conclusion herself.

Today had been a good day, however, one in which she had been affirmed for her abilities as a dean and had come home loving life, loving her job, and looking forward to the future.

Until the phone rang.

Even now, she was still reeling from the shock, and she wasn't sure how she was going to tell Eric when he got home. After rush hour traffic, he would already be tense and irritated– not exactly an ideal time to share the news. Maybe she should keep it from him for a day or two...but if he lost the upcoming game, it would be an even worse time…maybe she could keep it a few weeks, just in case it turned out…no, that wouldn't be right…she would have to tell him sometime soon. Maybe it needn't be tonight, but Tami had always been the mother who had pulled the bandaid off in one quick stroke, to get the pain all over with. Over the years, she'd found the bandaid approach also worked better with Eric than the slow peel.

She heard the door open and rose to grab Eric's plate back out of the fridge. She shot up a quick prayer that he was in a good mood. "Hey, babe," she called. "I'm just heating up your dinner for you."

Coach Taylor entered the kitchen, tossed the mail on the counter, and kissed Gracie on the top of her head before sitting at the table. No kiss for her when he walked in, Tami thought. That wasn't necessarily a bad sign, especially considering how quickly and silently he scarfed down his dinner; perhaps he had just been hungry.

"How was your commute?" she asked as she cleared his plate. She wasn't going to make him do dishes tonight, even though she had cooked. Not when she had this news to tell him.

"Not as bad as I expected, actually. I guess I left just late enough to miss the rush. How was your day?"

"Fine. Just fine." When she had finished the plates, she walked over and began to massage his shoulders.

He murmured and leaned back against her, "How come you're being so nice to me this evening?"

"Aren't I always nice to you, sugar?"

He smiled, his eyes closed, enjoying the massage. "Sometimes. Sometimes."

When she leaned over from above him and kissed his upturned lips, Grace cried, "No! No! In-uh-pro-pit!", a protest she had learned from her big sister Julie to make any time their parents grew too affectionate.

Eric laughed. "Just like your sister Jules. But you're going to be less trouble, right Gracie?"

"Trouble?" Grace repeated.

Trouble. Something they'd been relatively free of since they moved to Philadelphia. No bricks through the windows here, no boosters showing up on the door step at midnight, no one pushing Eric to recruit illegally, no one pushing Eric to do much of anything at all. It had been peaceful for a change, and Tami knew that, if nothing else, he appreciated that aspect of his new job; the tension that had been almost a daily experience in Dillon had just sort of drained from his muscular body. She didn't want to renew it by telling him the news, but she was going to have to do it eventually, once Gracie was in bed.

"How was your day?" she asked, pouring him a glass of wine. She appreciated that, even though he was more of a beer man, he was willing to forgo it most evenings and split a bottle of wine with her. She didn't like opening one just for herself, and now seeing a wine bottle always reminded her of their connection, of the way he was willing, indeed wanted to sit and talk and catch up with her in the evening, to listen to what she had to say.

"A'ight," he answered. "Except they've told me I have to teach driver's ed in addition to P.E."

"Well I bet that's going to be fun for you. That's not going to make you tense at all, will it? That'll be a relaxing little teaching position for you."

She loved the way he looked when he gave her that sarcastic laugh, the flash of white teeth. "Well, it's better than teaching Health I guess. That's what Jimmy" – his assistant coach – "pulled. He gets to answer all their sex-related questions."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd be great at that too, hon." She could capture a sarcastic tone almost as well as he could.

"With all my experience, right?"

"Well, you _were_ a football player."

"Yeah, and you were the second and last girl I ever seriously fooled around with in my life, Tami. And that was over two decades ago."

"Oh, I've let you get lucky a few times since then, hon."

"You know what I meant. See, and there you go again, stereotyping a whole group, even though you know me."

"Only because you're cute when you're riled up." And he was, when he was only playfully riled up…not quite as much when something was really upsetting him. Maybe he was cute then, too, but she was usually too worried about how he was going to handle his emotions to notice it. She wasn't looking forward to upsetting him tonight.

When Gracie's bedtime had come and gone, they settled down on the couch.

"I've got something to tell you you aren't going to want to hear."

Eric sighed. "Shoot," he said.

Tami topped off her wine glass with a generous pour, took a sip, steadied her resolve, and prepared to rip the bandaid off. It wasn't going to be pretty.


	2. Chapter 2: The Reveal

**Chapter 2: The Reveal**

"I love you sug, and we've been through a lot together."

"Mhmm," Eric replied.

"And Julie's been through a lot too."

Julie? Was Julie going to be a part of this? He didn't like that. If that Matt Saracen kid had up and left her after promising to marry her, if he had broken her heart again…

Eric didn't want to believe that. As much as he had thought they were too young to get engaged, he liked the kid. Coach Taylor was of three minds when it came to Matt Saracen. There was the part of him that resented the kid for taking his little girl from him. A father is always a girl's first love, and though he thought he and Jules were closer than many fathers and daughters, he had known the day he accidentally walked in on her and Matt that she was never going to be daddy's little girl again, that in some way, however close they might remain in the years to come, she was lost to him forever. It was inevitable, of course, that his girl should grow up and grow away, but that didn't make it any less painful.

But then there was the part of him that was glad that Julie had at least had the sense to choose a good kid – one with a sense of morality and responsibility, someone who had been early forced to step up and play the role of a man and who had passed that test. And though Saracen had proven himself in that way, there was that third part of Eric, the part that loved Matt like a son and therefore couldn't quite see him as a man. Because of that, if the kid had done anything now to hurt his Jules, Eric was going to have to endure a double pang – defensive anger and worry for a daughter and disappointment in a son.

"We've been through a lot as a family," Tami interrupted his musings, "and we can get through anything together - as a family."

Eric gave her the "wrap it up" hand motion he used while coaching.

"So together, we can get through what I'm about to – "

"Tami! Just tell me what it is. You're killing me here."

"Well, hon…well…it's just that, I got a call from Jules today, and in six months or so…well, you're gonna be a granddady."

"Say what?"

She annunciated the words this time. "You are going to be a grandfather."

He set his wine glass down on the table, hard. "Come again?"

"You heard me."

"You're telling me Julie's pregnant? That's what you're telling me? That our daughter's pregnant?"

"Unless you have some other adult child I don't know about."

Eric stood up and ran a hand through his hair. "No," he said. "No. No. It isn't possible. They aren't even married yet. The wedding's not until June."

"Well, they're gonna just move that date on up and have a small wedding and they'll be married before the baby's born. That's what they've decided. We can be there; it'll be during Christmas break. It's gonna be small, and they're having it in Chicago so they won't have to invite so many people…"

She went on talking about the wedding. Her ease irritated him. He knew she had to be as upset as he was, but she so often did this – playing the calm to his storm. Well, he wasn't having it this time. He wanted her to act as upset as he was, as upset as he knew she had to be. "How could they be so stupid? First they want to get married when she's not even out of college, and now they're going to have a kid? Didn't they use some kind of protection?"

"Well, you know, protection doesn't always work, honey. We've got a little girl sleeping in another room to prove that."

"That's not a fair comparison. We weren't using anything because we thought it wasn't likely, that you couldn't – why wasn't she on the pill?"

"She didn't like how she felt on it. They decided on condoms instead. You know condoms only work 85 percent of the time. And you know, maybe if you taught that Health class instead of Driver's Ed you could remind those teenagers of that fact - "

"He can't support a family working at an art gallery!"

"Well, hon, Julie's almost done with that associate's degree at that community college in Chicago, and with her grades and her intelligence and the skills they give her, I'm sure she's going get a job right out of school. She can always go back for her B.A. later, which I will certainly encourage her to do – "

"You and I both know that the starting salary she gets with an associate's degree is barely going to cover child care. And they're way up there in Chicago. They've got no family there to help them out. Matt's dad is gone - hell, we're down here!"

"Matt has a steady job. I realize it doesn't pay a huge amount, but he's not just working at the gallery, he also sold a couple of his own pieces last month."

"Art? That's how he's gonna support my daughter and grandchild? On art?"

"Eric, calm down for a minute, hon."

He sat down next to her and folded his hands beneath his chin, elbows resting on his knees. He rocked back and forth slightly and muttered. "Grandparents. She's 19. Grandparents. 19!"

Tami wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned her head against his. "Yeah, I know, babe. It's not the best timing. But they're going to have this baby."

"Tami," he had stopped rocking, been soothed a little by her touch, but his teeth were still gritted, "I am too young to be a grandfather. You're too young to be a grandmother. Hell – " he glanced at her "You're too hot to be a grandmother." He unfolded his hand and gestured at her. "Look at you! Look how damn sexy you are. This is not happening."

Now he got up and began pacing. "What the hell!" he said. "I mean, what the hell? Do you realize our daughter – our Gracie Bell – is going to be an aunt by the time she starts preschool? What the hell is wrong with that Saracen kid? When is Julie going to get some sense?"

"Eric, this is happening. I don't like it anymore than you do, but eventually we're going to have to accept it, and we're going to have to support them. They're bringing a baby into this world and you and I both know how hard that is on a marriage, and they haven't even had a chance to build their marriage for a few years first. They don't have that luxury now. But that baby is going to need a home, a mother and a father, and their marriage is going to need all the support it can get. We can get all upset and scold them and make it harder on them than it's already going to be, or we can get behind them and do what we can to help them handle this challenge. Those are our only two choices, as far as I see them."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." He sighed and sat back down on the couch. "I know you're right, Tami, but damn, why aren't you more worried?"

"I am worried, Eric. I'm worried as hell. But ranting and raving about it isn't going to do us or them any good."

He leaned his head back against the cushions. "When's this baby due?"

"April. I know Julie's going to need me out there to help after the baby is born, but school isn't out until May and I just started this job, and it isn't going to be easy for me to get the time off. I could be there for the birth and a couple of days after, but…we've got to figure something out."

"I can go help when the team's released for the summer, for a couple of weeks….Oh, that's funny is it? You're laughing."

"That's sweet," she said.

"Hey, I've had two kids of my own, you know. I know how to change a diaper, feed a baby a bottle. You are aware I've done that stuff, right?"

"I'm aware, hon. I just don't know…well, we can worry about all that later. They've got a one-bedroom studio, though. Neither of us is going to be able to stay there, that's for sure. That wouldn't be good for anyone."

"Could she come here? Have it here?"

"They've got lives out there Eric. Matt has a job."

"Yeah, but she's just got school. She could put school on hold come stay out here a few months – "

"Without Matt? You think that's a good way to start out a marriage? You remember how hard long-distance was on us, babe, and we'd already been married a long while. You know what a mistake it was for me to insist we live a part. And that was after years and years of marriage!"

"Aw hell. Aw hell, Tami."

"I know, hon. I know."

She kissed his temple. They sat in silence for a long time, just leaning on one another. "You were right about something, babe."

"Yeah?" Eric asked. "And what was that?"

"When we moved here and I wanted to buy the nicer house - again - and you said we couldn't afford it - again - what with the cost of living being higher here and all and you wanting a safety net in savings and all - well, I appreciate that, hon. I know you don't think so, but I appreciate that you make sure we're secure that way, even if you have to fight me to do it."

Eric nodded. "Well, you're welcome. I'm glad to be the voice of reason sometimes. It doesn't always have to be you." He looked up at the cieling, not at her, gathering his words. "You're suggesting, I suppose, that we're going to have to help them out financially?"

He felt her response, the slight movement of her head. "That's a dangerous road, Tami. If we have to we have to – I'm not going to let my grandchild starve, but that's a dangerous road to dependence. And if I know Matt – and I think I know Matt – he's not going to want to rely on us for any part of his family's provision. That's not going to do much for his pride."

"We'll worry about all that later. Let's just get used to the idea of being grandparents." She sighed and he felt in that long, low sigh how tightly she had contained her own emotions. "Oh Lord, Eric. I'm going to be a grandmother. That does not make me feel beautiful. Not at all."

"You," he said tilting her chin to look into her eyes, "are a stunning woman, Tami Taylor. And you're going to be gorgeous when you're a great grandmother."

She let out a groan. "Don't say that! Don't say that! I don't want to think about that!"

"What? I was trying to reassure you, and, by the way, I'm just tellin' you the God's honest truth."

She chuckled and kissed him. "I love you. I do love you."

He kissed her back, more deeply than she had kissed him. "I love you too."

She broke the kiss and they snuggled together on the couch. He could feel a mixture of tension and assurance in her body as she leaned into him, leaned on him - as they leaned on each other.

"Hey…" Eric murmured softly after a time. "Hey…maybe it'll be a boy. Maybe I can teach him to play football. He's bound to love the game. It'll be in his blood, from both sides of the family. Yeah…" he settled his chin back on the top of Tami's head, closed his eyes, and sighed, "…football."


	3. Chapter 3: Morning Has Broken

**Chapter Three: Morning Has Broken**

Julie snuggled close to Matt in bed. His gray T-shirt set off his eyes as he rubbed his temple. "So…how did your father take it?"

"My dad. You're always worried about my dad and how he's going to react to things. It's like you're terrified of him or something."

"Well, kind of, maybe just a little bit, I mean, he can be really intimidating. You're his daughter so he deals with you differently, but when he gets pissed –"

"I know, I've seen him pissed."

"And besides, I want him to like me. I want both your parents to like me. They're gonna be my in-laws, and I respect Coach. I don't know if you realize that but I actually do. And I don't want him to be mad at me for knocking you up or thinking I'm irresponsible or whatever."

"Knocking me up?" Julie flashed her childlike smile. "That's an uncool way to put it."

"Well, that might be how he sees it. It's not like we planned it or anything. I mean, I totally want a kid with you, don't get me wrong, you know that –"

"Yeah. We've been through all that. It's going to be tough. We both realize that. But we're mature. And I think my parents – they're going to deal."

"Did you talk to him though, your dad?"

Julie rolled her eyes. "Not yet. I just checked in with my mom and she told him and she said he's handling it okay."

"So you haven't talked to him personally."

She toyed with her fingernails, seeming to clean out a spec of dirt from under them. "Not yet, not exactly."

"So you're afraid of him too."

"I'm not afraid, Matt."

A smile stole across his face. "Admit it now, come on, admit it." He rolled beside her, tickling and kissing her. "Admit it!"

"Okay! Maybe just a little bit." She swatted him away. "Seriously, I'm going to call him and talk to him about it tomorrow. I just…I just want to give him some time to calm down. And I'm not afraid of him...I'm just...I'm afraid of him being dissapointed in me. I hate dissapointing him."

Matt kissed her. "I know. I understand." He rolled out of bed. "I gotta get to work, and you have class in an hour." He stretched and looked around his apartment, the how-in-the-hell-can-you-afford-it apartment, as Coach Taylor had called it. Not that the coach had seen it yet, but he'd heard the words "studio" and "apartment" and "Chicago," and he wasn't an idiot. He knew about city rents.

Matt had admitted he'd gotten a good discount subleasing it from a successful artist who had had her work on display at the gallery. "And how long do you have that sweet deal for?" the Coach had asked. "And what's your plan when that runs out?" And Matt had told him, not as forcefully as he had wanted to, that it was not his concern, "sir," and that he didn't have to worry, that Matt had it under control.

He would have been even more bothered by Coach Taylor's nosiness if he didn't know how much the man cared about his family, if he had not been there for Matt himself all those times when his own father hadn't. But damn he wished the coach would just let up for a minute. Just let up and trust him. Trust him because hadn't he already proven himself? Both on and off the field? Sure, he'd done some stupid stuff the coach knew about, like smashing up that car, and running off and not calling Julie when he moved to Chicago, and some other stuff…Coach had seen all that, but he'd seen the courageous stuff too. The responsible stuff.

Was his future father-in-law really going to ride him for the rest of his life? Was this really going to be his future – a litany of admonitions, and character lessons, and terse warnings sent his way like he was still a player on the field? God, he hoped not. He wasn't looking forward to the next time they met face to face. Matt had taken care of himself without a father, had cared for his grandmother, had lead his football team, was a professional artist now, and still, still this man could make him feel like a damn kid. Matt shook his head as he reached for the door.

"You know he loves you, right?" Julie called after him as he was about to leave. "He really does."

"Sure," Matt muttered. "That doesn't mean he isn't going to try to kill me."

Julie laughed, threw herself back onto the bed, and rolled under the covers as the door closed with a loud thud.


	4. Chapter 4: Dinner with the Taylors

**Chapter Four: Dinner with the Taylors**

Matt had a vague sense of de ja vu. He'd sat down to a dinner table in a slightly upscale, but never-too-fancy restaurant with the Taylors many times before. This was different, however. It was the evening before his wedding, and his soon-to-be wife was sitting beside him, her pregnancy now showing.

Coach Taylor hadn't spoken to him since the news had been delivered. Not that Matt had tried to call him. Coach wasn't exactly a talk-on-the-phone kind of a man. He was more of a show-up-on-your-doorstep-and-look-you-in-the-eye kind of a man. And Matt had been half scared the man was going to fly to Chicago to do just that. But he hadn't, of course; he had only called Julie on her cell phone a couple days after Mrs. Taylor had broken the news to him, and Julie told Matt the conversation had gone well, that her dad didn't seem "quite as freaked out as I expected."

Now the Taylors were staying at a hotel in Chicago, planning to head back to Pennsylvania the day after the wedding. Gracie was back at the hotel with Mrs. Taylor's sister. Instead of having a formal rehearsal dinner, just the four of them were dinning together tonight. Matt's groomsmen weren't getting in until eight o'clock anyway.

Matt was trying not to meet his future father-in-law's eyes, but it would have been rude not to look up when the coach drawled, "Son, why don't you and I go have a drink at the bar?" Matt might have taken the "son" as a note of the coach's willingness to accept his marriage to Julie if it weren't for the fact that Coach Taylor had called him that before he and Julie were even dating, had called ten or fifteen different players that at one time or another.

"Um…" Matt stuttered, "they'll bring you drinks here at the table. You don't have to go to the bar."

Coach Taylor laughed. He had a lot of laughs, Matt thought. He had the one he used to say "I'm very uncomfortable in this situation and I don't know what else to do but laugh"; he had the one Matt had seen him use to say to his wife "you're driving me crazy" but also the one that said "you just reminded me how damn much I love you"; and then he had the laugh that said, "I'm really pissed off right now and I'm just trying to calm myself down with this laugh before I snap and throw you against the wall". But this one – this laugh – Matt was pretty sure this was his "you're a damn idiot" laugh.

"Come on." Coach Taylor drummed on the cover of his closed menu. "Come on, let's have a drink."

Matt glanced at Julie and she gave him her raised-eyebrow, "You're on your own" look. He eased his chair back and followed the coach to the bar. It sucked that he couldn't even legally order a drink, that he just had to sit and sip a soda water while the coach downed a scotch.

"Seems like you're gonna have a really nice wedding. Simple and small but elegant." The coach was nodding at his drink, not, to Matt's relief, looking him intensely in the eyes as he talked, as he so often did. "Being the father of the bride, and the one who's paying for all this, I have to say – I especially appreciate the simple and small part."

Matt twirled the straw in his soda water and tried to think how to respond.

"Not that you have time for much else, with the baby coming and all."

Matt swallowed. He had that twisted feeling in his stomach he so often got around Coach – part fear, part agitated self-defense, part hope, part respect, part annoyance. "Yeah, I guess."

Now the coach did turn to look at him, and Matt knew it would be rude not to turn himself. The man's eyes bore into his. "You ready for that, son?"

"Yeah…Nah…I mean…I don't guess anyone's ever ready for that."

Coach Taylor broke the uncomfortable eye contact, nodded, and motioned the bartender for another scotch. "Damn right. I sure wasn't. But you learn on your feet. You learn on your feet. I'm sure you'll do fine."

This note of encouragement came as a surprise to Matt, who was expecting something more along the lines of a "How could you screw up your life and my daughter's life" speech.

"Of course…"

_Ah, here it comes_, Matt thought.

"…it's easier if you're older, more established, the marriage has had some time to solidify…you know what I'm saying here."

"Yes, sir, I do. It's not like we were planning it. We weren't at all. And we thought about…ya know…options…ya know, but neither of us wanted that on our consciences, wanted to start out – I mean…it's not when I wanted to do it, but it's when it's happening, and I love your daughter, sir, and I'm going to love our kid, and I've got a steady job, and I –"

"Where you gonna live? You said your discounted lease was going to be up on that apartment – "

"Coach," Matt interrupted. Why did this man make him feel like this? Coach Taylor had built him up with his motivational speeches, made him believe himself, but whenever he had to have a conversation about Julie with the man…he made him feel like such a child. And Matt wasn't a child. He'd weathered more than most men twice his age had weathered. This had to stop, and it had to stop here. He gathered his courage. "Look, sir – "

"Matt, why don't you call me Eric. You're marrying my daughter. Coach, sir…it's going to sound a little formal after awhile."

"Uh.." This threw Matt off his train of thought, and his semi-prepared speech temporarily derailed. "Eric" was definitely not going to come easily from his lips, if it came at all. "A'right. Okay. Anyway, I was saying, look – look here. You don't have to know about my financial situation. That's my business. That's not your business."

"It's not just your business. It's my daughter's business because she's going to be your wife. It's my grandchild's business because he or she is going to be your child. And that makes it my business."

"All due respect, sir, it doesn't. Julie's an adult now. I'm an adult now. Maybe you don't believe it, _Eric_" – he manage to speak the unnatural-sounding name, if only because it leant anger and sarcasm and emphasis to his words, "but I'm a _man_. I will take care of my family. And I have means to take care of my family. I have a plan for where we're going to live next, but I don't have to share that plan with you. I have resources, but I have no obligation to show you the figures."

He had been firm, he thought. Firm and determined, but he hadn't exactly dared to look the coach in the eyes while he said all this. He looked now, not as unwaveringly as he had wanted to, but he at least met the man's eyes. And the coach had that look, that "I'm listening to you, and I'm not going to interrupt you, but I'd really, really like to yell at you right about now" look. He must have perfected that look with years of coaching, or, more likely, with years of marriage to Mrs. Taylor.

Matt didn't look down. He didn't look away. As calmly as he could, and as resolutely as he could, he said, "I appreciate that you care about your daughter. That you care about your family. And I appreciate that you're worried. I hear what you're saying." How many times had Coach used that very line on him? I hear what you're saying. I hear what you're saying, I've acknowledge it, but I'm doing what the hell I want anyway. Yeah, that line. "Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to put a ring on your daughter's finger. I'm going to be her husband, and all that – it's going to be _**our**_ problem. Not yours, ours. It's going to be _**my**_ problem to provide for _**my**_ family. My problem, not yours. And if I want your advice – I'll ask for it." Then he issued the final blow, yet again one of Coach's own lines, "Am I making myself understood?"

As soon as he had said it, Matt regretted it. It was as if the flip had switched in an instant from assertive to intimidated. He tried not to show how nervously he was waiting for a reply. He tried to look as sure of himself as he had sounded. He wasn't sure the coach was buying it.

"A'right, Matt. A'right then. You've said your piece. I heard you." Coach Taylor stood and motioned to the drinks. "I guess you can take care of that tab then, can't you?" He turned and walked away from the bar, back to the table. Matt took some crumpled bills from his wallet, paid, and then rejoined the Taylors.

When he sat down, he could tell that Mrs. Taylor could read the tension. She was perceptive like that, and she quickly jumped in, "Matt, I hear congratulations are in order, that you sold two new pieces last month."

Matt nodded and picked up his fork. The food had arrived in their absence. Coach Taylor was already cutting into his steak. He was smiling, a tight, closed lip smile, but he was carving that hunk of meat a little too fiercely.

"Yes, M-" he was about to say "Mrs. Taylor" but remembered that she, like Coach, had told him to call her by her first name. It still felt too weird, however, so he just dropped the address altogether. "Yeah. That collector I told you about last time we talked, the one who bought my other pieces. he had a friend who saw them and called me up, and I sold two more."

"That must be nice, sell a couple of works, have a little extra pocket money," Coach Taylor said. Matt didn't think the man intended to sound condescending, but he did.

"Yeah. It _is_ nice," Matt replied, and even though he had just told his future father-in-law that he didn't owe him any financial particulars, any proof he could support his daughter, he just couldn't resist the temptation to see the look on Coach Eric Taylor's face when he said what he was about to say. "Yeah, $6,000 is a nice little extra pocket money."

The sound of the coach's fork hitting the plate when he dropped it was music to Matt's ears. "$6,000?" he repeated, "$6,000? There's people willing to pay $6,000 for two pieces of art?"

"Ah…nah…" said Matt, and he watched the coach's face carefully, closely, with pleasure, "Nahhh…not for two pieces of art. They sold for $6,000 each."

Tab Coach Eric Taylor had left him at the bar: $13.97. Estimated cost of the dinner he would insist on picking up tonight: $217. Cost of the materials he had put into producing his $6,000 art works: $189. Expression on his future father-in-law's face when he told him what they sold for? Priceless.


	5. Chapter 5: Midlife Crisis

**Author's Note: **_Thank you to all those who have reviewed/commented on this story thus far! I appreciate knowing what people think and your thoughts are always welcome. Hope you enjoy this next chapter._

**Chapter Five: Midlife Crisis**

"I bet you're gonna look mighty handsome in that tuxedo, hon," Tami said as she hung it up in the hotel closet. When she turned around, Eric was behind her. She let out a startled yelp as he slid his arms around her and kissed her neck, then her lips. When he pulled away, she nodded at the notes that were crumpled in his right hand. "You done with your toast? You've been working on it all night. Gracie Belle is fast asleep, and I could use some attention from you."

Gracie was curled up in the second bed, a stuffed animal on either side. They had put her in the middle of the queen-sized mattress, hoping she wouldn't fall out. She didn't have guardrails on her bed at home anymore, but it was at least low to the ground, and she'd been known to roll out in the middle of the night. While they had been dining with Matt and Julie, Grace had spent a nice evening with Tami's sister Shelley, who was staying in the hotel room next to them.

"I don't know. I hate these things. I'm terrible at speeches. I don't know what to say."

She walked past him and turned down the covers on their bed. "What are you talking about, Eric? You're great at speeches. You give them all the time in your job. You have a pretty good reputation for motivating your players."

"That's different. That's completely different. A wedding toast ain't exactly a pre-game pep talk. And a reception room full of dressed-up people ain't exactly a locker room."

"They're mostly people you know and who know you, hon. And there's only gonna be maybe thirty people there."

"I'm nervous as hell about it though." He sighed and tossed his notes on the hotel desk, next to an open laptop where he had been looking up quotations on the internet.

Now she was the one to come up behind him and slide her arms around him. "Come to bed, hon. This is a big day tomorrow and I'm anxious for Julie and I want to cuddle and talk."

"Come to bed and **_talk_**. That's just what a man wants to hear. You know…" He turned around and slid his hands around her back, kissed her, and murmured, "If you're anxious…I know a good stress reduction technique."

She laughed against his lips and pulled back. "Babe, not with Grace in the room. You know what a finely-tuned sexdar she has. Sometimes it goes off late at night half way across the house."

The intentionally exaggerated puppy dog eyes with which he responded to this blow did not melt her resolve, but they did make her laugh again. "Maybe tomorrow we'll see if Gracie wants to have a sleep over with her Aunt Shelley," she said.

"Come on," he drawled. "She's been asleep for over an hour."

She patted his chest. "Besides, hon, I'm sorry, but I just don't feel like it tonight. Maybe tomorrow after I've had a lot to drink at the reception."

"Oh," Eric took hold of her hand and removed it with feigned offense from his chest. "Oh, so you need to be real loose to tolerate that with me now, huh? Is that it?"

His play at injury seemed only three-quarters faked, so Tami defended herself: "Come on now. That's not what I meant! I just…our baby is getting married tomorrow. Our first baby."

"Yeah. I know. And if it helps you to talk, I'll listen."

"You're sweet, hon." She tugged on his hand, leading him toward the bed.

"If you want to talk, why don't we sit on the balcony? We're not getting much time to see the city. We can at least take in the view. Besides, it's gonna be torture lying there next to you all cuddled up just talking."

"Well, that would be a great idea, except that it's December. In Chicago."

"Bundle up, Tami. Bundle up. At least the cold will keep me awake."

"Oh. Oh so you need freezing temperatures to tolerate a conversation with me now, do you?"

They did bundle up and go out on the balcony. They lasted about five minutes, taking in the spectacular city view, before they were back in the toasty warm hotel room huddled together underneath the thick covers. Eric lay on his back stroking Tami's hair as he stared up at the city lights dancing on the white stucco ceiling. She lay against him and just talked – talked about her hopes and her worries for Julie.

It was quiet for a long time and she was drifting off to sleep when he said, "Who the hell pays $6,000 for a painting?"

"I think they were sculptures, hon," Tami murmured from against his chest.

"Whatever. A sculpture. Who the hell pays that?"

"Rich collectors, I guess. Apparently Matt's built up quite a reputation for himself already."

"Did you know this? Did Jules tell you this? Did you know how much he was making for his work?"

She shifted, now more awake. "I knew he'd sold a couple awhile ago. And then when you guys were at the bar she told me about these two. She didn't give me a number…I didn't think it was quite that much….but I knew it was substantial. She said with everything he's sold in the last year, they had enough for a sizeable down payment on a two-bedroom condo. That'll mean they should be able to make the mortgage payments just on his salary at the gallery. They realize the art sales will come and go and that they can't count on them, so they're putting it all toward the down payment. They're being smart."

"Good. Julie's a smart cookie." His fingers wandered lightly across her back, seeming to echo his restless mind. "Seriously, though, $6,000? Who the hell pays $6,000…"

Tami propped herself up on an elbow and looked down at him. "Aren't you glad? I thought that would take a weight off your mind. You're the one who told me helping them out financially was a bad idea, that we should avoid it if we could, and now it sounds like they're going to be just fine. You act like it bothers you."

"It doesn't bother me. Who said it bothers me?"

"Well, now, don't get riled up. The way you're saying it doesn't bother you makes me think it **_really_** does bother you."

"I'm glad, Tami. I guess he's damn good at what he does. I don't understand art, but I'm glad he's got something he loves and he's good at it. To be able to do what you love **_and_** make a living at it…that's a rarity. And of course I'm glad for his sake and Julie's sake that he's doing well. It's just…never mind."

"No, what? Seriously, why's this bothering you, hon?" She stroked his chest with the flat palm of her hand and then let it come to rest over his heart.

"I don't know…it's just…The kid is barely 20. I've been working full-time for over 18 years now at my career. And right now, with both my teaching salary and my coaching stipend, I don't clear in an entire month what he just made selling a single painting."

"Sculpture."

"Sculpture. Whatever. I love coaching. I've always supported my family. But I guess…I don't know. I never accomplished the ambitions I had when I was a kid, that's for sure."

Tami sighed and kissed his cheek. "You've accomplished a hell of a lot, Eric Taylor. What you've done with those players of yours? What you did with East Dillon? What you did with Vince? What you're doing right now with the Pioneers? You're never gonna make the big bucks. Like I've told you before, you're a teacher first. You've got a teacher's heart. But you don't have to make a lot to accomplish a lot. And you've accomplished a hell of a lot."

"I guess."

She kissed him on the lips, without receiving much response. "Babe, if you're fixin' to go through some kind of midlife crisis," she said, "please just buy a motorcycle. It's cheaper than a sports car and a hell of a lot cheaper than an affair."

He laughed. He rolled to his side, halfway atop her, and began to kiss her. Between kisses, he said, "How about.." kiss… "I just deal with my midlife crisis" kiss "by making mad" kiss "passionate" kiss "love" kiss "to an incredibly sexy woman?"

Tami giggled and squirmed away from his grasp, which left him looking very adorably despondent. She motioned to Gracie. He sighed.

Damn he was cute. She reached for the light. "How about you make slow, quiet love to an incredibly tired woman instead?" As she turned off the light, she could see a twinkle in his eye that matched his smile.

"I could settle for that," he murmured, drawing her close. "I could settle for that."


	6. Chapter 6: The Bachelor's Party

"A'right, Sarecan, so I did a little research, and I've got recommendations for the best strip clubs in Chicago."

"I didn't know you were such a scholar, Riggins," said Landry, as he raised a beer can in salute. The three of them were in a hotel room Riggins and Landry were sharing. Landry was to be Matt's best man, Tim a groomsman. They were his only two Texas friends who had made the trek to Chicago. That was okay with Matt. He and Julie had both wanted to keep the wedding small.

It was going to be a little awkward, having those two as groomsmen with Tyra Collette as maid of honor. To tell the truth, Matt was a little surprised Julie had chosen Tyra, but he supposed she hadn't made many friends in Chicago. In fact, she seemed a little lonely in the city, like she had firm roots in Dillon but hadn't branched out and flowered in Chicago yet. Then again, his groomsmen were both coming from Texas as well. He liked and respected many of the artists and dealers he worked with, but he wasn't close to any of them.

"Nah," Matt said. "Nah, man, we're not going to a strip club tonight."

The silence that followed this refusal was punctuated by the sound of a can opening with a slow hiss. "What are you talking about?" Tim asked as he took his first draught of a new beer. "It's your bachelor party." He jerked his head back to fling his shaggy bangs from his face. "This is it. You aren't getting anything else. Tomorrow you are good and chained and then when that kid of yours comes – "

"Look, Rigs, Julie asked me not to. She said she doesn't want me getting a lap dance from some other woman, so, you know, I got to respect her feelings."

"Well, you can respect her feelings," Tim said. "You can make sure you don't hurt her feelings by not telling her about it."

"Yeah, I could do that…except I don't want to start out my marriage lying to my wife. Just doesn't seem like a good precedent."

"It's not a lie. It's just an omission – "

"Dude," interrupted Landry, "if he doesn't want to go he doesn't want to go. But Matt, what's with Julie being all sanctimonious? I mean, she's been to the Landing Strip. She was arrested there, remember?" He didn't add that Julie had also taken him there once. He didn't think he needed to tell Matt that.

"Yeah, I don't know. She has a double standard for me. Whatever. It's not that big a deal to me to go."

"So, then, what do you want to do?" Landry asked. "Blues club? Or maybe some place with karaoke? I've been practicing some new songs."

Matt and Tim both looked at one another, their laughter shut in behind tight-lipped smiles.

"What?" Landry protested. "So you don't think I'm an exceptional singer, despite the fact that my new band had two – not one, but two - frat party gigs last month?"

"What's the name of your band again?" Tim asked just before swallowing the last drops of his beer. He crushed the can in his hand and tossed it overhand towards the small motel trash can. It ringed the rim and slid in. He grabbed one of the two remaining beers and opened it.

"Friday Night Lights."

"Friday what?" Matt asked.

"Night Lights, you know, like the football…"

"What," Riggins asked with a crooked smile, "do you sing sports songs or something?"

"No. But we're all former high school football players, so we thought it would be a clever name."

Tim's eyes met Matt's and both laughed this time.

Landry held up his hands. "Fine, fine. You know what? I'm glad Matt got a DJ for his reception instead of having my band play - "

"It's a small room, Landry, there's no room for a band, it's - "

"I know. I didn't want to play anyway. But I'll tell you guys what, I'm not inviting you to any of our concerts when we get famous."

"Weelll," Tim said slowly, "Matt couldn't go without his wife's permission anyway."

"Shut up," Matt retorted. "At least I'm getting laid tomorrow night."

"So am I, Saracen. So am I," Tim averred. "Who all's going to be at this wedding again?"

Landry glared at Tim, who nonchalantly met his gaze. "Besides Tyra," Tim said, looking directly at Landry. "She's already made it clear to me that's not happening. Which means you don't have a chance either."

"Not many people," Matt answered. "Julie's other bridesmaid is some chick from her college named Sarah."

"Is she cute?"

Matt shrugged. "Otherwise it's just family, a few friends from work and Julie's college. I really don't think you're going to have much luck."

"Is Mrs. T's sister coming? Shelley?"

"Uh…Yeah…" Matt shook his head. "You're crazy. She's twice your age."

"She's semi-hot."

"Yeah, well," interjected Landry, "you're probably going to have to get through Mrs. Taylor if you want to go there and I do not recommend that. I do not recommend that at all."

Tim shrugged, with his eyes instead of his shoulders, and tossed his now empty can toward the trash. He missed this time. As he went to pick it up, Landry asked, "So what are we doing then? Tonight, Matty, your last night of freedom. What's it going to be?"

"Actually," said Matt, sliding a finger down the side of his beer can to wipe away the condensation, "You know what? I haven't seen you guys in ages. I probably won't see you again until…I don't know when I'll see you again. I'd kind of like just to hang out and drink with y'all."

"A'right then," said Tim, standing up. "I'll go get three more six packs. And just to show you what a good groomsman I am, Saracen, I'll drink half of your pack, just to make sure you aren't hung over tomorrow."

"Thanks. Thanks, Rigs," said Matt sarcastically, "You're a true friend."


	7. Chapter 7: The Toast

**Chapter Seven – The Toast**

The room quieted down as Coach Taylor held up his glass a little shakily. "A toast," he said, "to Mr. and Mrs. Saracen."

Matt answered Julie's smile with a hesitant one of his own.

"I uh…I wrote down a long formal speech," Coach Taylor was saying. "Even had some really witty quotes and…uh….it just didn't feel right. After I watched my little girl get married…I don't know. It just didn't seem right."

Matt shifted in his seat. He had seen the coach drink scotch after scotch at the reception. He prayed the man didn't humiliate them with whatever he was about to say. Matt knew the coach still wasn't thrilled about their marriage, was even less thrilled that Matt had gotten his little girl pregnant. He looked up to the coach, resented him, admired him, feared him, trusted him, and questioned him all at the same time. He guessed maybe this was how a man might feel about his own father, if he had had a father who had actually been there for him.

"Matt,"

Matt looked up at his father-in-law. _Please, please, please_, he thought. _Don't give me one of those coach's speeches._ _One of those "you better not hurt my daughter or I'll have your head on a platter" kinds of speeches_.

"I couldn't ask for a better son-in-law. It's not easy letting go of my baby girl. But if I have to do it…I'm glad it was you. I've known you since you were a sophomore in high school. I've watched you get in and out of trouble. I've watched you do some damn stupid things."

Landry and Riggins, who were sitting on the other side of Matt, laughed loudly. Matt himself smiled a little, not sure if it was meant to be a joke, not sure where the coach was going with this.

"But I've also watched you admit when you were wrong," Coach said. "I've watched you stand up for yourself when you believed you were right. I've watched you do the right thing, even when doing the wrong thing was a hell of a lot easier." He paused for a moment and bit his lip before continuing. "And I've watched you do it again and again. That's why I respect you as much as I do."

Matt looked quickly down at the table, a little overcome. That was something his own father had never said to him. _I respect you._ And he certainly hadn't expected to hear it from Coach Taylor's lips, not after Matt had taken his daughter's virginity, gotten engaged to her without the coach's permission, got her pregnant before they were even married. He couldn't look up while the coach continued.

"So I hope…I'm trusting you with a treasure here, Matt…and I hope you're going to do right by my daughter. For the rest of your life. Because that's what marriage is. A life-long commitment. You don't get out of this one easy, and you got to work to stay in it." He glanced at his wife, who smiled at him, a mixed look of love and pride and tenderness in her eyes. "But if you do that work, I will guarantee you this - it'll be worth it. It's worth every compromise, every tear, every argument, every effort. It's worth it to have someone beside you to share your life with, to prop you up when you're weary, to live for, to give your work meaning. To give you purpose. I'm not going to lie and say it's always easy. You two have both got to know that. But I'll tell you what - whatever you invest in your marriage – it'll pay dividends that make you richer than you ever imagined."

Coach Taylor swallowed, shifted his eyes to his wife for a moment, and then shifted them back to the couple, resting them on Julie. He was swaying back and forth a little, and even though he was coherent, it wasn't quite clear to Matt how long he was going to be able to remain on his feet without sitting down. "Jules, you're a smart girl. You've always been a smart girl, which is why I've always been shocked when you've done dumb things."

This time, the laughter came from Tyra.

"You made a smart choice here. You chose yourself a good man. Treat him well. Listen to him. Respect him. He's going to need your admiration, even more than he's going to need your love. That's what you've got to know about a man. I love you, baby girl. You have always been the apple of your daddy's eye, and I'm still here for you if you ever need me, but I know I'm not the one you need to lean on anymore."

Matt could see Julie was about to cry, and he wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed.

"And you're going to do a lot of leaning in the years to come." Coach Taylor looked down and coughed. Matt thought maybe he was trying to hide the fact that his eyes had gotten a little wet. He looked back up, raised his glass, and said, "To the bride and groom. To a bright future together. May God bless your house and make your lives a beautiful testimony to the power of love."

Glasses clanged together as a few people affirmed the coach's closing words with a quiet "Amen." He walked unsteadily back to his seat on the other side of his wife, who grabbed him by the arm as he sat down, leaned over, whispered something into his ear, and kissed his cheek.

Matt now turned his attention to Landry, relieved the moment had passed without embarrassment.


	8. Chapter 8: Catching Up

**Chapter Eight: Catching Up**

"That was good toast, hon," Tami said when all the toasts were over, the dancing had resumed, and they sat alone at their table. "You always say the right thing when you speak from the heart." She kissed his ear and then whispered, "And you have a big heart. That's what I love about you." His hazel eyes smiled in response. "You gonna make it through the rest of this reception, Eric? How many scotches did you have anyway?"

"I don't know. I lost count." Thank God he had already danced with the bride long before the toasts had gotten underway. Of course, he might not have started throwing back scotch if the DJ hadn't been so cruel as to play that damn Steven Curtis Chapman song, "Cinderella" it was called, that was clearly designed to bring fathers to their knees. When the last repetition of the chorus had ended with "all too soon the clock will strike midnight / And she'll be gone" he had kissed Julie's head quickly without looking at her and fled the dance floor.

"How much longer is this going to go on?" he asked now.

"Matt and Julie are going to want to be out of here soon, but we're going to be expected to stay for awhile. You'll have to manage to stand up and walk outside to do the bubbles at least."

"The bubbles?"

She motioned to the little white, plastic bottles that punctuated the tables, each wrapped with a white ribbon. "We blow bubbles at them when they leave."

"Say what?" Eric picked up one of the bottles and turned it in his hands with confusion.

"Instead of throwing rice."

"That's…" He shook his head. "What's wrong with rice?"

"It's messy. There's clean up."

"A'right, bubbles it is then, Tami toes."

"Tami toes? That's a new one. I don't like it."

"Good. Good. Then I'll be sure to use it often. Tami toes - " He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. "You can't mistake her funny nose." He chortled. "See, I'm a poet as well as a toastmaster."

"Lord, Eric. I'm impressed you were able to make such a lucid toast in your condition. No more scotch." She slid him a pitcher of water. "Start hydrating yourself, hon, so you're hangover's not so bad tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am." He poured himself a glass, spilling a little over the top, and began drinking.

"Hey, Coach, congratulations on your daughter's nuptials."

Eric looked up at Tim Riggins. Tim reached out a hand to him. The coach tried to stand and nearly fell back, but Tim grabbed hold of his hand and steadied him with an arm around his back and a clap on his shoulder. The young man made it look seamless and natural and thus spared Eric any embarrassment. "You a'right there, sir?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah…just had maybe one scotch too many." Eric now had his balance and let go of Tim's hand, though he steadied himself on the back of his chair. "How you doin'? Did you get that house built?"

"Yeah. I hit a few snags with the inspection, but it's pretty much done. It's looking mighty nice. I'm back to working as a mechanic again. It's paying okay. And I'm assistant coaching now too, over at the junior high school."

"That's great to hear, Tim. Glad you're doing well."

Tim excused himself and walked over to flirt with Tami's sister Shelley, who was dancing with a carefree Grace. Eric glanced at his wife and watched her to gauge how irritated she was by Shelley's response to Tim. Eric was about to sit back down and tell her to let it go when Lance – Landry – whatever his name was - accosted him with congratulations. While Landry was talking, Tyra Collette walked up behind him, and Eric decided it would be polite just to remain standing.

Fortunately, Tami did the talking now."How is Dallas treating you, Tyra?"

"Pretty well, Mrs. T," Tyra replied. "I'm just about done with my B.A. in psychology, and then I'm going to get a counseling certificate, see if I can help out at a local women's center that does really great work."

"B.A.?" asked Landry from beside her. "Psychology sounds more like a b.s. degree doesn't it? Get it? B.S.?"

Tyra smiled tersely. "That's good, Landry. That's real nice. Mock my accomplishment."

"Geez, take a joke why don't you."

"Psychology is most decidedly not b.s., isn't that right, Eric?" Tami asked.

Eric now put a second hand on his chair to further steady himself. "My wife, Lance, was a psychology major," he glanced at Tami, "and though she now has a distinguished career as a dean of admissions, she's always been a very gifted counselor, which is a very challenging and difficult role that requires the kind of intelligence, insight, and compassion my beautiful, brilliant wife possesses."

"See, Landry, that's how you're supposed to talk to women," Tyra said with a tilt of her head. "Maybe not with such a sarcastic tone, though." She patted Eric on the shoulder. "Sorry, Coach, but you've got to work on your delivery. Make it more believable."

"Mrs. T. knows I mean every word, don't you, hon?"

Tami rolled her eyes and Tyra replied, "She knows you want to get laid tonight."

"Wooaaah!" Landry exclaimed, clearly shocked Tyra would say such a thing in front of the Taylors, but she just laughed and walked off, joining Tim on the dance floor and interrupting his circular dance with Shelley and Grace just as the music changed and slowed. Tim encircled Tyra with his arms and they began to sway slowly to the music. Coach Taylor for his part looked and felt mortified, and Landry quickly excused himself.

Eric sat back down and put his arm around Tami. "I'm really not trying to … for that."

"I'm sure you're not. You can barely stand up. Maybe if you're lucky I'll take you to the hotel and let you pass out next to me in bed instead of leaving you here."

"Sorry if I've acted like an ass."

"You haven't, hon. You haven't embarrassed anyone - yet. And I know this day hasn't been easy for you." She reached up and squeezed the hand that was on her shoulder. "I thought you were going to faint when you gave Julie away."

"She's my baby."

"I know she's your baby." She rested a head on his shoulder. "She's your baby, and she's all grown up."

Eric closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he asked, "Are they really spinning out there on the dance floor, or is that just the room spinning?"

She patted his knee. "Drink some more water. I'm going to see who wants to dance with me."

"Tim Riggins could probably use some more action. He's only danced with nine or ten women this evening."

Tami kissed the top of his head and set off for the dance floor.


	9. Chapter 9: Change Gonna Come

**Chapter Nine: Change Gonna Come**

"Can I get you anything?" the stewardess asked. "A cocktail?"

"Just water," Eric mumbled.

"I'll have a Diet Coke," Tami responded. When the stewardess had moved on, Tami massaged her husband's temple. "How you feeling, hon?"

"Better. Better than I was in the middle of the night. Better than this morning."

"You can't drink like that any -

"I know -"

" - more, Eric. You're not 21 any -

"You think I don't know tha -

" - more, babe."

"It was a special occasion."

Tami let out a resgined sigh. "How you feeling?" she asked. "Not your head, I mean, you just gave your baby girl away."

"I'll be a'right. How about you? You were crying up a storm last night."

"I know. Thanks for holding me through it. At least until you passed out."

"Sorry."

Gracie stirred from her nap in the window seat beside Tami, rolled her head around, and fell back to sleep.

Eric leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. "I been thinking," he murmured.

"'Bout what?"

"Things are pretty quiet with the Pioneers. It's not like Texas." He now opened his eyes and turned slightly toward her. "I mean, people come to the games, they cheer 'em on, football players are popular and all…but it's just a game here. It's not like they interrupt regular TV shows for the local high school football scores."

She nodded. Her eyes told him she was all attention and waiting for him to continue.

"It's an easy gig. I'm not out late at night for practices anymore. Everything's in the early morning or the late afternoon. Even most of the games are in the afternoon. I'm not having major problems with any of my players."

"That's good though, right?" she asked. "You never liked being the center of Dillon's attention."

"It is good. I get to coach the game I love, and I don't have to deal with so much of that other crap. But I was thinking. Your job's a pretty regular schedule too. You're home at 5 every day. You're there for Gracie in the evening."

"Yeah?" Tami didn't know where he was going with this.

"So, I was wondering what you might think of me takin' some classes at night."

"Classes?"

"Yeah. I thought maybe I'd knock out some prerequisites I missed in college and see if I can get into a master's program next fall."

"A master's?" She was speaking loudly enough to be heard over the increasing roar of the engines, but just at that moment they leveled off, leaving the word lingering in the air like an accusation of idiocy. She lowered her voice now. "A master's of what?"

Eric had not been in love with college. When he was playing football, he hadn't concentrated on his studies at all. He had managed a C average anyway. At first Tami had assumed he was being given special accommodation as a football player. Soon enoughy, however, she realized he was simply smart enough to earn average grades without making any effort. She had resented it, too, because she barely maintained a B even with all her studying. Once he injured himself, however, he buckled down and brought his overall GPA up to a 3.2. But he had wanted to get through it and get out and start working as soon as he could, especially since they had gotten married just before his senior year, and he had certainly never before mentioned the possibility of going back to school.

The way he looked at her told Tami that he did not expect to be well received. "Sports Medicine."

It didn't make sense to her that Eric wanted to go back to school, but it made sense to her that he'd be interested in sports medicine. He read articles on the topic all the time. "Are you thinking of a career change? You've coached your whole life, hon. Are you really thinking of quitting that?"

"I love football, you know that. I'll probably always coach in some capacity, but lately…lately it's started to feel more like a hobby than a career. I'm not going anywhere with this. It was always my goal to coach college ball, be a head coach of a college team one day. Let's face it. That ain't gonna happen. I tried jumping on one of those stepping stones in Austin and it didn't work out for our family, and there are a lot more stones I'd have to hop on before I got all the way to the top."

"Do you regret quitting that quarterback coaching job and coming back to Dillon?"

He looked away from her and didn't answer right away. He was probably relieved, she thought, that the stewardess came by and asked for their empty glasses.

After Eric had collected Tami's with his and tossed both in the open trash bag, he finally replied, "I don't regret putting my family first. We'd have fallen apart if I'd of stayed in Austin." He stared at the little table in front of him as he raised it up and latched it, as though the effort required all of his concentration, but she suspected he just didn't want to look at her. "I admit sometimes I wish you had been willing to move to Austin with me from the beginning, give up your career for mine, let me have a chance at reaching that dream with you there to support me. But I know that wouldn't have been fair to you. I realize that. And I might have ended up risking the happiness of my wife and daughter and the security of our marriage for a dream that might never have come true anyway."

Tami put her hands in her lap and began turning her engagement ring back and forth. "Sorry I couldn't do that for you, babe. Sorry if you're unhappy in Philadelphia."

"I'm not," he grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "I'm not unhappy. I'm just coming to the point where I have to admit some truths, like that high school coaching has never paid the bills and never will. Most of my income has come from teaching. Maybe my focus has been on coaching, but that's not where the money comes from. I can keep coaching, keep the stipend, but do something else during the day besides teaching P.E. and Driver's Ed or hanging out in the field house and going over football tapes twice as many times as I really have to."

They were quiet for awhile. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and asked, "Does this desire to go back to school, maybe change careers, does it have anything to do with Matt - "

"No! N - "

" - making all that money off his art?"

"Come on, now! No! I've been thinking 'bout this for awhile. I'm not competing with my son-in-law. It's not like I expect to make a lot of money with this degree either."

Her communicative blue eyes told him, _All right, I believe you more or less._

"I've been looking into it for two months," he said, in a tone that implied _I know you don't believe me, but it's true._

"You've just never mentioned anything about any of this before."

"I didn't want to say anything until I was sure I wanted to do it. It's going to require some sacrifice on your part, so I didn't want to get into an argument about it if I wasn't sure about it."

"Well, what makes you think I would argue with you about it?"

"Well, once I start the master's, I'll have to take night and weekend classes, so I won't be home as much."

She nodded. "You're right I don't like that. I was enjoying having you home every night for a change. But if you're not feeling fulfilled right now, if you think this will help – I can handle that."

"And I'll have to quit my teaching job at the high school so I'll have time to study during the day and also teach some classes at the college. I can get a partial tuition waiver if I T.A. I'll keep coaching. I'll keep that stipend, but the teaching salary…that's going to be a pretty big loss. You're basically gonna have to be the sole breadwinner for two years."

"Well, currently I already make more than you do."

"Oh, that's nice. Why don't you just rub that in?"

"Just sayin' I think we can handle it for two years. And there were a lot years when you carried me."

He seemed a little baffled that she was being so supportive, as if he had prepared for a fight and didn't know how to respond to this new dynamic. "And I'm not going to get a hundred percent of the tuition waived TAing, either. We're going to have to dip into savings a little."

"That's what it's there for, hon, in case we need it."

"Really? You're okay with that? Even though I wouldn't dip into it to buy a bigger house?" She had finally gotten the his and hers closets she had always wanted, but he hadn't wanted to spring for the four bedroom house. A room for them, a room for Grace, and a room for guests was plenty, he argued. She had wanted an office too.

"I told you, I don't _need_ a bigger house. I just _wanted_ one. This…this sounds like something you need. I'm kind of surprised you don't want to keep teaching, though. You know I've always thought of you as a teacher first. I've always thought that's what made you such a great coach."

He sighed. "Well, I'll teach some college classes, at least while I'm working on my master's. After that…I don't know…maybe I just want to work with adults for a change. I don't know what it is. But I do need a change, Tami. I'm getting old."

"You are not old."

"Old, old, old," he glanced away and back toward the tail of the plane, distracted by a young kid skipping to the bathroom. "Gonna be a grandpa…"

"Don't remind me, please." She threw her head back against the headrest and sighed. Then she turned to him again. "So what do you need to do to get into this program?"

"I need anatomy and a couple of other science and math prerequisites. I think I can cram them in before next fall. I've got the minimum undergraduate GPA. Barely, but I've got it. If I study hard, I'll do well on the GRE. I'm sure of that. I'm pretty certain I'll get in."

"You're a confident man, Eric Taylor. It's not unattractive."

"Well…" he leaned toward her and raised his eyebrows. "I got reason to be confident. I do know the Dean of Admissions."

She blinked twice. "Uh…hon…you were thinking of pursuing this program at Braemore?"

He laughed. "Nah. I wouldn't do that to you. Besides, Braemore doesn't have a Master's in Sports Medicine. Which you should know. There are other colleges in Philadelphia."

Tami kissed his cheek, and when he sat back up she leaned on his shoulder. "Change, hon," she murmurred. "We got a lot of changes coming."

From Tami's new career to a new hometown to a new son-in-law to a coming grandchild to Eric's own latest pursuit, change seemed to be the one constant in their lives.

Change…and each other.

**THE END**

_**But not really.**_

_A sequel that picks up about a year later is in the works._

_Look for the title, "Life Belongs To The Living"_

**Your reviews and comments are very much appreciated!**


End file.
